


Lies For Vows

by Pistol



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:28:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pistol/pseuds/Pistol
Summary: It's not a matter of trust so much as it is a matter of convenience.
Relationships: Carlos "Cougar" Alvarez/Jake Jensen
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	Lies For Vows

It's not a matter of trust so much as it is a matter of convenience. 

And that's not so much a lie as it is the very precarious dam holding back the one thing Jensen isn't allowed to talk about and actually _won't_ risk talking about. 

Jensen carefully moves the brush, pulling it slowly, until the motion is so mind numbing that he can block out the thought. Almost.

When he's brave enough to glance at the broken mirror hanging on the wall of their safe house du jour, Cougar's eyes are closed and his face is blank. This makes it easier in some ways. It makes Jensen's dam stronger, and it makes everything else so much harder.

On his third look up to closed eyes and a blank face, Jensen closes his own eyes for a moment. He traps it, memorizing it and letting it pass before refocusing on his task, before refocusing on reality. 

Slow movements and a steady pace, just the way Cougar seems to like. Jensen executes every movement with a mixture caution and ceremony that sets his teeth on edge.

The brush drags slowly down, down, down, and then it's over. 

Jensen needs to start this all over again. He needs to find a new section, one that needs him to smooth out the chaos and leave behind something calm and manageable. 

It's a fucking joke, because, this, _this_ is something Jensen should actually be able to not fuck up. But he is. He isn't sure how, but he's fucking this up, and-

"_Shhh_." 

"I'm not actually talking, Cougs. But your preemptive attempt is noted and ignored," Jensen says half-heartedly.

"Stop thinking."

The motion in the mirror catches Jensen's attention, a soldier's instincts follow it to its source, and Cougar's eyes are waiting for him. Jensen stills, wanting to look anywhere but _there_. In the mirror, Jensen's reflection holds the hair brush with a white knuckle grip and his whole body has a tension normally reserved for a battlefield. 

_Oh, fuck you, body._

Cougar glances away first. "You don't have to."

Jensen ignores a different set of instincts and snorts in feigned amusement. "I'm fine. It's just hair. It's not like this is hard work." He calms another section as proof. 

Cougar sends him an irritated look. "Jens-"

"I got it." Jensen drags the brush faster than normal and hopes Cougar will be kind enough to ignore it. "Besides, you really want to trust Roque with this? Fucker would give you that high-n-tight he's been threatening you with."

Cougar's lips thin in annoyance, but he says nothing and moves to grab the hairbrush out of Jensen's hand. Jensen jerks it up and away, watching Cougar stiffen and and then hiss when he tries to reach up for it.

"Yeah, picture of health, you are," Jensen says. "How the hell you gonna brush out this mess if you can't even get something a foot above your head? The answer is, you fucking _can't._ So shut up and let me do this."  
Cougar opens his mouth to say something else, and Jensen shifts his gaze from Cougar's face to Cougar's reflection. It's easier somehow. Maybe because the white bandages are white and not stained red from this angle.

"Let me do this," Jensen says before Cougar can speak.

Cougar growls, moving ineffectively again to grab at the brush. "_Jensen_," 

From the corners of his eyes, Jensen sees the red stain grow. Just a fraction of a fraction of an inch, but it's _enough_ to tip whatever scale Cougar has been pissing all over this last hour. Jensen drops the brush on the bed, plants his hands on Cougar's back and side, and _pushes_. He ignores the startled, pained noise from Cougar, just barely, and pushes Cougar face down on the mattress. Jensen moves his knee to the left of Cougar's spine, keeping Cougar there despite his lack of fight.

"Jensen." There's a warning in Cougar's voice, concern, and something that makes Jensen squeeze his eyes closed.

"You're hurt," Jensen whispers. "You're hurt, so you need to let me do this. You need to let your _teammate_ help you."

Cougar makes a soft sound, a meaningless noise that manages to mean _so many_ things. Things like _Jensen, your goddamn knee isn't making this any less painful_ and that Cougar is feeling a little rebellious and planning on dragging Jensen down with him, and worst of all, it tells Jensen that Cougar, stupid fucking Cougar, is more worried about Jensen right now than his own stupid ass.

"I'm fine," Jensen grits out, moving his knee to the bed. He stays there, kneeling on one leg, bent over Cougar's back, and tries his hardest to remember what his line is now, because it's not the one he wants to say.

"You're quiet."

"Maybe I took everyone's advice."

Cougar makes another sound, one Jensen, by sheer force of will, pretends means nothing. Apparently Cougar's rebellion is less tiny and more, _let's throw the script out the fucking window_.

"Cougar." Jensen lifts his other leg off the floor and sets it on the opposite side of Cougar's legs. "Just-" Jensen's voice breaks, but he ignores it, lowering his face to rest his forehead in the hollow between Cougar's shoulder blades. "You gotta stop. Just let me do this. Let me do something _right_ for once, yeah?"

Cougar's body goes lax, relaxing under Jensen's hands, and it draws a hollow sound from Jensen's throat. _Fucker._

"I can do this."

"Not your fault," Cougar says.

"Fuck you."

"Not your fault." Cougar cranes his neck up, just enough to turn his head to the side. "You couldn't have known they had backu-"

"Just let me do this, Cougs. Don't-don't do _this_." Jensen's whole body is tense as he does his best to look anywhere but at Cougar, "I swear, if you can't stop, I'll just go get Clay or Po-"

"No. You won't."

Jensen grits his teeth, pressing his skull down until the muscles in Cougar's back tense in pain. Jensen immediately pulls back, moving up and off the bed of questionable origin.

"Sorry."

Cougar says nothing, pushing himself up one handed with a grunt. He easily folds his legs under him and moves to pick up the brush, holding it out to the side without turning to see Jensen. 

"No Clay. No Pooch. No Roque," Cougar says firmly. "Just _you_."

Jensen stays where he is. "Why?" His tone is _bad_, off script in too many ways to count and exposed in a dozen more.

"You need this. _I_ need this. And we won't have another excuse like this for a while."

"I hate you."

"No. You don't." Cougar twists to face Jensen and offers a gentle smile. "Now." Cougar waves the brush.

"Did I hurt you?" Jensen steps closer. One foot in front of the other. One lie on top of another. He can _do_ this. "I didn't mean to."

"You did. And you _did_." Cougar says it without any anger, and then because Cougar is a bastard, he smiles and says, "I get mad when you hurt yourself, too."

Jensen clenches his fists and he's not even fucking _thirty_, so how can he feel this _old_? "We _can't_ do this, Cougs. There are fucking rules, man, and you know it." 

"Then don't talk." Cougar turns, facing the wall and continues to twirl the brush in lazy circles. "There are no mirrors on this wall," he says quietly, "No one can see us right now."

Jensen takes the brush. "I hate you."

"No, you don't."

**Author's Note:**

> Was previously posted, then taken down. Now it's back up. Beware the errors and typos, I suspect the files I found on my old hard drive are the pre-beta versions.  
Please don't steal any of my silly stories and change some names around and then try to sell them as books on Amazon or I'm gonna have to take everything down again.


End file.
